Far, Far Away
by starsmeetsky
Summary: Aradia Megido does what she needs to survive. In her case, that means prostitution. A breaker of hearts, she doesn't know what to do when she realizes she can't run away from her problems forever. Humanstuck AU, Aradia/Equius
1. Smile Wide For The Camera Lenses

Sometimes, life doesn't go the way you planned (or dreamed).

Sometimes it goes just the way you expected it would, somewhere in the back of your head where the pessimistic little whiny voice whispered to you your whole life- that you'd amount to nothing much at best and absolute scum at your worst.

At 22, she knew this as she waited for her regular Friday night appointment to show up. Mister Ampora was a sad, pathetic loser, but he was a wealthy, sad pathetic loser, and he wasn't too bad in bed either. She had long suspected he only came to her because she resembled the girl he would never have, but for five hundred an hour, you could deal. You weren't in the business of love, but of pleasure, and you had to deal with things like whiny hipsters from time to time.

The club was a familiar place, and the blond, shades wearing DJ nods to you. He knows why you're here, knows the truth and doesn't judge you too harshly for it, and for that you two are something like friends. On a bad night you can talk to him, smoke outside in the alleyway, have drinks at the bar. For such a cool guy, he's got a soft side, and you've heard him talk about his fiancée, a smiley, bucktoothed girl with sweet eyes and long, dark hair like she was a princess. And deep inside you, wish there was someone who loved you like he obviously loves her.

But that doesn't matter anymore, because Ampora's here, and he's a gentleman tonight, which means he must be in a good mood. When he isn't he can be pretty rough, and once he cried in your arms after sex, whimpering about how he was sorry. You swear he called you Feferi once, but that's okay. Like you said before, this wasn't a job for a romantic. You're a whore, a fancy, elegant, beautiful one, but that was just the gilded outside. The deal was, you fucked wealthy men who gave you gifts and cried in your bed and took you to nice hotels. It might not have been the most elegant job, but it paid the rent and that was what mattered.

As he led you to his car, you think of what you'll tell your roommate, Kanaya when you get home tonight. Hopefully she'll be at Rose's tonight, so you can slip in and change into pajamas and get to work on your homework before she gets home. You both work, although she actually has a reputable job as an intern at a fashion house and just graduated from FIT, while you're still taking online courses because you sleep in late and only study part time.

You live in a comfortable apartment, expensive, but then again, this is New York City, and Manhattan ain't cheap. Add on food, electricity, water, internet and the like, and you wonder how people can afford to live in this city.

But thoughts of your lesbian roommate and her girlfriend fade from your mind as your appointment guides you into the taxi. You'll have dinner tonight, he'll pay for a hotel room, and then he'll fuck you gently, holding you like you're an angel, and you'll make all the right noises at all the right times, fake an orgasm or two, and then let him lavish you with affection. To him you're just a doll, one that he can dress up to look like the one he'll never hold, and then the facade breaks as you shower, take off your reading glasses (he likes it when you wear them during sex), get dressed again, and he pays you, pulling out an overstuffed designer wallet (probably a gift from his parents), handing you in crisp hundreds.

Tonight, he gives you a gift- diamond earrings he knows you'll sell, but you'll wear them until you get out the door. You are his weekly fantasy, and as you take your taxi down to Chelsea, you almost pity the poor bastard.

When you slip into the apartment, you breathe a sigh of relief until you hear voices from the kitchen. You check your hair- dry, thanks to the hotels' hair dryer, and walk in. Rose and Kanaya are drinking wine at the table, laughing at something witty and just oh so slightly snarky, and they invite you to sit.

You're good, but you thank them anyway, skip the wine (you had a glass before you left for the hotel), and retreat to your room with a jar of nutella and your laptop for company.

Your roommate does not know what you do for a living. She thinks you work retail. Seeing as she works from early morning to early evening, she thinks you work a late shift. You're perfectly happy to let her believe this. Because although Kanaya is a sweetheart and a great friend, she's also the meddling, motherly type that would try and force you to do something else.

That, and her girlfriend was a shrink who would rip your psyche to pieces analyzing it and asking her why you won't give up prostitution.

But they were definitely both good people. Better than you deserve. Much, much better.

* * *

><p><em>It was a long time ago. You were seventeen and in love with a geek called Sollux Captor. Weird name, maybe, but it wasn't like yours was common either. He was driving that night, back from the concert you'd convinced everyone to go to.<em>

_When the van hit the side of their car, you remember their faces, screaming, and then darkness. You were the lucky one. All you got was a coma that would last two weeks._

_You remember waking up, and somewhere between then and your casts getting taken off, you remember them visiting. Your face was swollen, the bruises just fading, but you were a beauty queen compared to the mess of the rest of them. Terezi, who had hit her head on the dashboard, was permanently blind. Vriska had both her left arm and eye. Tavros had lost both of his legs. Due to damage to his lower spine, it was unlikely he would ever walk again, even with prosthetics._

_Sollux was in a deep coma, with doctors debating if he'd ever wake up. _

_Their faces showed no hate, just sadness. "It wasn't your fault, the other guy was drunk. He died on impact..."_

_And you cried, like the stupid idiot you were. _

_Goddamnit, you loved that boy, that nerdy, geeky, bipolar, idiot, genius who played video games with you and let you stay with him when your apartment building burned down. The boy you shared your first kiss with, the one that held you when your mom died. First guy you ever slept with, too. But back then it was making love, and he kissed you and hugged you and loved you for you, and ignored that you were from the bad part of town, the girl from the wrong side of the tracks._

_You were a fucking coward. You didn't stick around for the funeral everyone was expecting. No, you packed your bags, visited your mom's grave, left a note apologizing for everything, and ran like the coward you were. You couldn't face them, their sad faces, or their lies._

_"It wasn't your fault."_

(.)

You realize then you've been staring at your computer silently with tears streaming down your face. Shit. That always makes you cry.

It takes you a few moments to remember who you are and where you are. You are not seventeen, you're twenty-two, a well paid hooker, not a schoolgirl (except on Sundays for Dr. Scratch) and Vriska, Tavros, Terezi and Sollux are distant memories.

You repeat this to yourself until you fall asleep, having forgotten to finish your homework. There are some nights that you just need to go to sleep and forget everything until the morning. Saturdays are always busy.

_I'm sorry, I'm so sorry._

* * *

><p>What you do might be illegal and immoral, but it pays the bills.<p>

This is what you tell yourself as you inch off the thigh highs in front of your regular Sunday appointment. He's probably a pedophile, seeing as he insists you always dress and act like a catholic schoolgirl when you have sex with him. You always make sure to act like you're five too, he gets off on that, and he's always satisfied, tips every single time, leaves you the hotel room for the rest of the night so you can change into normal clothes. You're pretty sure he used to be a pediatrician or a teacher, which honestly scares the shit out of you.

You wait until the door closes and his white jacket and green tie disappear from sight before you shudder, ripping the perverted outfit off with a vehemence you can't truly explain. He might be one of your best customers, but still. He's a creepy bastard and you hate the smug prick, hate how you scrub in the shower but can't seem to get his touch off of you. You hate him, just like you hate all your customers.

Despite the rosary you wear on Thursdays when you meet the priest, you've never believed in a god. What kind of miserable, sadistic asshole would let a world exist where you have to sell your body to get ahead in life? The irony of that phrase does not escape you. And the worst part is, you're not even really letting anyone down. It's not like anyone would have expected more from a girl from her neighborhood. Well, maybe your mom and Sollux, but one's definitely dead and the other you'll never see again.

In any case, god or no god, you still hope that if there is a hell, your customers burn, pedophiles, liars, cheaters, and whores, and that if there is a heaven, that your mom doesn't hate you for everything you've done.

Most people asked her how she couldn't believe in a higher power, and the answer was painfully simple- you were a prostitute. You'd seen everything, sold your soul long ago to survive another day, grew up in a shitty part of town, surrounded by people no better than she now, or worse. You'd never known a dad, only knew that he was some Japanese business man who got into your nineteen year old mother's pants, and your mom was a miserable excuse for a parent.

Well, to be fair, she could have been way worse. Vodka might have been bad, but hey, least she wasn't a meth head. But growing up, tiptoeing around her hangovers and heating up pop tarts and bloody marys for breakfast wasn't exactly a place for the blooming of another innocent flower in a dog eats dog world.

She was drunk the night the meth lab downstairs blew up, and you remember walking home with Sollux and screaming as you saw the flames. Screaming because you knew that instant that you were really alone. Because, shitty mom or not, you loved her, in that Stockholm Syndrome kind of way all kids with fucked up parents have with their families- as much as you wanted to scream at her for vomiting on the couch, you couldn't help but remember how she used to read you fairy tales in Portuguese, her native tongue.

You think of this as the taxi takes you back to the club. It's nine, almost, which means you have maybe an hour or so before the DJ goes up and starts the party, and maybe you can talk to him. And just your luck, he's sitting there at the counter, expecting you. Every Sunday, you chat. Irrelevant shit. Stupid shit. But he knows and he'd listen if you had anything to say, which is cool.

DJ Stridenasty is one of the best in the city, and he knows it. He's an ass, too, in his own way, ironic as it got, another hipster in your life, but this one you don't mind. He's good looking too, and you both know it. You actually tried to hit on him the first time you met, while you were rather tipsy and relatively new to the business. You expected him to lead you to his apartment, fuck you senseless, ditch you because he didn't like to cuddle. And you would have stolen his wallet or something. He seemed like a one-night stand sort of guy, cool as can be. And maybe he would have been.

You were then shocked that instead, he drove you home, and he spoke about his then-girlfriend, and it actually made you cry when he talked about how much he loved her. Even then he worshipped her, and he handed you a tissue and explained how special she was, and apologized as he parked across the street from her apartment. He was a nice guy in a world where nice guys didn't exist, and so you were his friend.

He nods at you as you sit down next to him. "How was he?"

"Horrible, as usual. God, I hate the creep. How's Jade?" You order a beer, light, because you just want to get rid of the edge from another unpleasant evening.

"Running around decorating the place. I think I'll tell her I have a pollen allergy so I can get rid of all the damn plants." He sighs, adjusting his shades (you wonder how he can see anything, in a dark club at night, with those things on). "I know I've said this a thousand times, Aradia, but you're smart and smoking hot. If you're going to sell your body, couldn't you make it legal? You would be a great model."

"It's just till I get my damn degree, Strider."

"That's bullshit and we both know it."

"Listen, I come here to relax. Can we not talk about this anymore?" You sip at your drink, frowning. He knows you well, but you wish he didn't try and convert you. But he doesn't push the issue, and you chat about happier things, and you're feeling pretty good by the time you finish the beer you've been nursing for a while. Dave nods a goodbye and disappears behind his turntables, and soon he has the entire club jumping around, despite the fact that it's Sunday and who parties on Sundays, anyway? You reach for your purse, your mind clear with a gentle softening of the harsh realities of life around the corners. You will never become a drunk like your mother, but alcohol isn't all that bad.

However, the people around you have been drinking a lot more heavily than you have. You realize this when a heavyset guy slings his arm around your neck as you stand to leave.

"Heeeeeeeeeey, babe, leavin' so soon?"

"Get off of me, you fucking creep," You hiss through your teeth, trying to pull his arm off of you. You can't cause a scene, because you're pretty sure the regulars and the workers here know what you are, and any problems and you'll have to leave. Which is inconvenient, seeing as this is one of the best places in town to pick up guys. But he's heavy and you can't do it. "I said, get _off_."

"You're reaaaaal pretty." He has playful hands, and they slide down to your breasts, and you hate how you inhale sharply, having been caught off guard. There's a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, and you can't help but feel sick, your entire evening ruined.

"Get off!"

And suddenly he's no longer touching you, he's on the ground with his hands on his face, screaming through the pulsing sound of dance music. What? You turn around sharply, looking for your savior (you hate feeling weak, but you're too relieved to care at the moment), and find him looming over your shoulder, a hulking mass of muscle. He looks pissed off, and you see his black polo and realize that this guy must be a bouncer. A new one, because you've never seen him around before.

"It's rather rude to be touching a lady without her permission, is it not?"

He's got his hair tied up (it's kind of on the long side) and he's wearing square shades that look cracked. Might be the lighting in here. You notice his nose has been broken at least once, and it's crooked. The light bounces off his dark skin, and it shines because he's somewhat sweaty. But it's his way of speaking that you notice first, measured out and extremely elegant for a guy who just decked someone in the face, hard enough to knock him out of his seat. He stoops over briefly and unceremoniously picks him up from under the armpits, and then proceeds to drag him outside via a side door, muttering something about people and how they get after a few drinks.

He comes back a few minutes later, wiping his face with a towel. Maybe it's best if you leave... you scoop up your bag and head towards the exit as inconspicuously as possible, but a gentle hand catches your upper arm and you turn. It's the bouncer. He coughs once to clear his throat before he speaks.

"Miss, are you alright? There are a lot of unsavory types in this place at this time of the night." He nods his head at the door. "Like the previous man. I apologize for not having come to your aid earlier."

You simply nod. You're used to this shit, you get paid for it. "Thanks for that."

"Er, my shift just ended. Would you, perhaps, allow me to accompany you outside?"

You eye him warily. He's got sixty pounds on you, easy, he's at least an entire head taller than you, and he's made of lean muscle. He looks like he might have been a boxer at one point- that would explain the crooked nose. If he wanted to hurt you, there's no way you could beat him in a fight.

But oddly enough, he doesn't scare you. You've always been an excellent judge of character, and that kind of sixth sense has always come in handy in your line of work. He seems gentle, if maybe a bit impulsive, and you nod. "Sure."

If he hits on you, you could always tell him it's $500 an hour and that unless he's willing to pay, then he should fuck off. And you have pepper spray in your bag, although the shades would block the worst of it. You theorize pointlessly as he leaves the club with you, your hand clenching your purse in a vice grip. Just in case. It never hurt to be safe. You press two on your cell phone, speed dial for a taxi. It's kind of late and you're not risking anything by taking the subway home.

It's weird waiting next to this sweaty dude. But it's a bus stop and there they are, one for his bus, the other for her ride home. You reach into your purse and light up- cigarettes sooth your nerves and this guys is definitely making you jumpy- and then you jump slightly as he breaks the increasingly awkward silence.

"If I were to be so bold, may I perhaps enquire your state of being? I've worked as a bouncer at many other establishments, and women are usually rather shaken after being harassed in such an unsavory manner."

His brow creases as he speaks, and you sigh. He does seem like a sweet guy. Most people wouldn't bother asking. Probably because most people either know what you are and don't give a shit, or just don't give a shit in general about some pretty broad, assuming you're used to this kind of bullshit. And you are. But it still stings when they bring it up. It's nice to have someone who bothers asking.

In retrospect, it's probably really pathetic that you're so secretly touched. But you are.

"I'm okay. I mean, it's not like I'm the only girl who's ever gotten hit on and harassed in a bar- although that guy was a creep. Um, thanks for asking." You pause before you continue speaking. "Are you new? I go here a lot, and I've never seen you before. You're kind of a gentleman, which is pretty cool. I mean, most bouncers are just all brawn and testosterone."

A small smile tugs at his lips at your last comment. "Oh, yes, I'm new here. The other establishment I worked at closed a while ago, but my employer recommended me."

"Is this your only job?" It never hurts to be friendly with the bouncer. Plus, he seems like the decent sort.

"Uh, no. I work as a mechanic during the day. Anything from cars to computers, I can fix. I work in-" He coughs. "In Brooklyn."

"Really?" Hmm. Maybe some brain behind the brawn too. Not too shabby.

"Yes. " He smiles again. "I presume I'll see you again?" You turn in confusion. Behind you, your taxi has just driven up. Looks like you've got to go.

"Probably!" You give him a vague smile and even more vague wave as you step into the taxi. Might as well have him know who you are. "I'm Aradia Megido. I'll see you next weekend, I guess."

"I'm Equius. Equius Zahhak. I look forward to seeing you again, Ara- Miss Megido." He awkwardly waves back as you close the door. Odd guy. But you don't mind.


	2. A Stumble Into Faith

You willingly sell your body, but you're not a sex crazed slut. You're simply a whore. Or, as you call yourself when you meet your clients, an escort. And while others may argue that, you stick by your guns because hey, you hate your job. You're lucky enough to be high class- to the point where you can pick and choose your clients. You keep clean, you're on birth control, your clients wear condoms and anyways, STD clinics test for free. You're not a reckless skank, you're a hardened professional at what you do.

But being good at fucking people for money isn't exactly something to be proud of. Wives hate you. Girlfriends and fiancées despise you. You're a homewrecker, one that Mr. Jones can deny he loves because you're just a pretty piece of meat, and you hate it. You're an empty shell some days- you should have died, and yet you're walking down the street in four inch heels and Yves Saint Laurent at eight PM.

Today is one of those days and you feel miserable. You need to be tough to stay in business, and it's hard sometimes to put up that cold front, be the ice cold bitch who can kiss like you mean it and then break your heart when you slip the bills into your purse. It stings when you see the photos when you were young and happy, when you were really alive, and not a cold shell. You're going to finish your mandatory classes, go to a real college with your savings, become an archaeologist, work in a museum.

Maybe you'll meet someone who can never know the truth, and you can have a somewhat decent life. You might not have finished college, but damn it, you got your damn GED, you're taking the fucking required courses, you're going to get out of this hellhole of a life. You have to.

There's really no one to talk to except for Strider, but it's a Wednesday night and he's not going to be at the club. You figure you might as well go anyway, you could use a drink before you go home.

You walk into the bar, tired, and sit in the high stool on the end of the row. The bartender smiles at you, and you nod. "The usual?." Your usual consists of a light beer, straight from the bottle. But tonight you're bruised up from the last guy and need something quite a bit stronger.

You pause before you shake your head. "I'll have a vodka on the rocks."

He shrugs and pours you the drink, which you drink, relishing the burn of your throat. You shouldn't be doing this. You rarely drink anything too strong, and your mother's ghost nags you in the back of your head as you chug your drink. Alcoholism tends to run in families and hell if you're going to end up like your mother. You couldn't think of a more pathetic way to die. That said, an occasional drink is a hell of a lot better for you than your cigarettes, even if they're not a daily thing. But you hate vices, and you've seen them tear down lives, yours included.

You shouldn't be here, but you are, and against your better judgment you order a second drink. You're halfway done with it when a vaguely familiar, deep voice sounds out. "Miss Megido?"

You whip around, hackles up, ready to flee because you're off duty and you don't feel like taking any shit, and then relax when you see it's the bouncer, one of the few other people around at this time. "Oh, hi. You're... Equius, right?"

"Yes. How has your evening been so far?" He settles down in the seat next you yours, but you don't mind him. You shrug halfheartedly, and continue sipping your drink halfheartedly. You can already feel the numbness kicking in, and you swear you won't have a third drink because you can tell the alcohol taking its toll on you, despite having dinner, courtesy of Mr. English. Must have been the wine.

Staring down into your glass, you hesitate before speaking the truth. "I've had a shitty evening, to be honest." You pull your hair back into a bun, to sweep it out of your face. "Hopefully you had a better day than I did."

He seems rather shocked that a prim, so-called elegant chick would swear, and usually you wouldn't. But then again you're more than slightly tipsy and with all the crap you've had to deal with today, you deserve to be allowed to curse. "You work as a mechanic during the day, right? Is that hard?"

"Oh, yes. I'm rather surprised you remember, though." He peers at you curiously and leans back, adjusting his shades. You swear he's smiling a bit, but it's rather dark inside the club. How can he even see in those shades? "Not really. I've been working with cars and computers since I was a kid. It's rather like a second nature now. I got into NYU on a scholarship too, for programming... but that didn't last long."

"Oh. Did something happen? I'm sorry-"

"No, it's alright. I was expelled."

"Do you mind if I ask why?"

"Regrettably, I have anger issues and I... punched a hole through a computer monitor in a fit of rage."

You sit there for a few seconds before it sinks in, and you can't help but giggle. "I'm sorry, but..."

"It's alright. I make a decent salary doing what I enjoy, and that's what counts." He smiles slightly. And you smile back. The conversation takes many turns, and you look at your watch and suddenly it's late, and you're on your fourth shot of vodka. Oops.

"You're a bouncer. Shouldn't you be working? Bouncering or what not?" You don't mean to scare him away, you're merely curious. He shrugs and gestures around. The entire club is almost empty, except for a middle aged man in the corner, sipping at what looks like ginger ale, Equius, the bartender, and yourself. "Oh."

He shrugs. "I don't have much work to do at the moment, as you can see." He starts getting up, probably taking the comment as a hint to leave. You wrack your brains for an excuse for him to stay beside you, realizing how lonely you feel all of the sudden. It's nice being able to actually talk to someone.

"Have you ever had to hurt someone on the job?" You blurt out, just so you can talk to someone. He seems startled, but sits back down, frowning. "Yes."

"Do you mind telling me what happened?"

He tells you. but you don't remember much through the haze of alcohol. He calls a taxi for you, you drunkenly give the driver your address, and Kanaya fusses over you when you get home, but you're happier than you have been in a while. And you don't know why.

Once, twice, three times, seventeen times.

This becomes a regular thing, like Sundays with Dave and Fridays with Ampora. Sans alcohol. With one noticeable, large difference- they know the truth about you. And Equius doesn't. Whenever he asks you about your job, you say you work retail at a lingerie store. It's a lie, but for some reason you don't want him to look down at you, see you for what you really are. A whore.

You don't deny it to yourself. You've long left the lies to starry eyed girls who don't know the true meaning of desperation. But he's smart and charmingly awkward, and it's a nice change from the other guys you usually hang around. And you can talk to him without feeling hindered by anything. He was surprisingly well read, and for the first time in a long time you can talk about Hemingway and Keats to someone. It brings back memories of high school, when you were a straight A student and literature and history geek, who dreamed of college scholarships and made honor roll every semester.

It might have been a long time ago, but once upon a time you were a good girl who had a very fucked up life and seriously shitty luck and a sweet boyfriend who helped you with your math and science homework. And he brings that girl to the surface, a girl who used to laugh and smile and joke. And you like him for it, and, okay, maybe because he calls you classy and sophisticated, but he's a genuinely nice guy and you like him, a lot.

So, like good friends, you hang out when you can- in other words, when you're both off duty. Sometimes at libraries, coffee shops, bookstores, in the time after you get off duty from you 'job' and before your scheduled appointment with whomever it may be, and sometimes after, while he works. You guys are pals. That's it. Pals that hang around a lot. He talks about his roommate and long time best friend, you talk about your roommate and her girlfriend, politics, life, Shakespeare, the inner workings of computers (after which you had to excuse yourself and wipe up your mascara in the bathroom), philosophy, and the likes.

You're friends. That's it. Friends of the opposite sex. Heterosexual friends of the opposite sex (unless you counted the one time with Kanaya, but whatever).

This does not escape Strider's notice.

"Does he even know?"

You glare at him disapprovingly. "No, and it's none of your business anyway."

"I'm just saying, he's a nice guy. Don't fuck it up."

"What do you mean? We're not dating or anything..."

"Lie to yourself all you want, _Chiquita_, but you like him, maybe a bit more than you'd like to admit."

"Fuck off, Strider. We're just friends."

And you weren't lying to yourself then. You had no intentions. You were just friends. It was a platonic relationship, as platonic as could be.

Too bad you had a gift for fucking up the simplest things in life, as evidenced by your insistence that you meet somewhere else besides the club, so you can chat while he's off duty and relax. Which wouldn't have been so bad had you not decided to see if he was still as polite and well spoken after a few drinks. Just a small experiment. You call him to see if he wants to hang out at a bar near his apartment, and manage to convince him to drink quite a bit more than you usual. Unfortunately, you end up drinking a lot more than you expected while getting him drunk.

And then you go and win the prize for biggest idiot ever by asking him if you can just crash at his place because you don't feel like taking a long taxi ride home. To which he says yes, because hey, you guys are cool like that, right?

You find out two things- one, Equius has about the same level of tolerance for alcohol as you do. Second, he talks a lot more.

Somehow, you get to talking about growing up.

"I grew up with my dad, and we were pretty close and all-" He hiccupped before continuing. "He owned a car repair shop, but he really wanted to be a programmer. He had to drop out of college because he couldn't afford it, since my mom, uh, got pregnant when he was in his senior year. She died of cancer when I was a kid, and he never really got a chance to go back, so he settled with the next best thing."

"Oh god, that's so sad, I'm sorry! My mom died when I was a teenager, in a fire-" You hiccup and continue anyway, your words slurring a bit too much for comfort. "It sucked. I never met my dad."

"That's horrible, I'm sorry, Aradia."

Even through the haze of alcohol, you notice he's dropped the fancy speech. "You're not speaking like you usually do. That's actually kind of cool."

"Oh, fuck, you're right."

You each look at each other before you start giggling. He blushes and stammers out some apology for his lewd language, and in that moment he looks so adorable, surprisingly unhindered and human and whatever that you impulsively lean forward and kiss him, startling you both. But not really that much.

What does surprise you is that he kisses back, and you pull yourself away from him, rather stunned at what you just did.

"I- I'm sorry, I just-" You both glance at each other, and your brain drunkenly runs a checklist. He's a nice guy, you're both pretty drunk, and you haven't been laid in a while- by which you mean, laid by someone how hasn't paid you. You're too soused to realize how much you'd probably regret this in the morning, and instead you almost hungrily kiss him again. And again. And again.

By the time you stumble into his bedroom, which is actually pretty clean and organized, a stark contrast to your current state, he's fumbling around for a condom, and you're trying to get your bra to unhook while making out with the guy who's probably the closest thing you have to a best friend. You will come to regret this, but unfortunately the regret doesn't really hit you until you wake up with a pounding headache and hickeys over your neck and collarbones, collapsed in bed with said friend.

"Oh."

You take inventory of the situation- and of course, it's fucked up beyond all recognition and/or repair. FUBAR indeed.

"_Shit_."

Okay, no need to panic, all you did was sleep with your friend. And then it hits you. It isn't that big of a deal, you sleep with people all the time. The only difference, this was free, and done with a friend under the influence of alcohol. All you need to do is convince Equius that it isn't a big deal, and that you should both just pretend nothing ever happened. But priorities first- your mouth tastes like sandpaper and your head is pounding. A drink of water would help.

You wrap a sheet around you like a toga and slip out. The bathroom is down the hall, and you slink towards it sneakily. The sound of rushing tap water breaks the silence like a gunshot, but you're too thirsty to care. By the time you've had your fill, your cheeks are pink from oxygen deprivation, and you gasp for air and wipe your face with a clean towel. Okay. Now that you're no longer in immediate danger of death via dehydration, time for damage control. You turn to exit, and find a little girl in the doorway.

Understandably, you scream.

The girl flinches in surprise, and looking closer, you realize she's not so little after all- she looks sixteen, but could be as old as her early twenties. She's wearing a baggy olive jacket over a bulky blue hoodie that hides her age pretty well- she shifts and you can see her curves. She's petite, with shoulder length brown hair peeking out from under a blue hood. You then remember Equius talking about his roommate. This must be her. Catnip or something.

"I'm sorry for surprising you! You must be Aradia! Eq texted me last night, saying he was bringing a friend over!" Her eye flicker over your current state of undress and then back at you. "I didn't think you guys were that kind of friends! Eq's always so serious..." She trails off, then smiles brightly. Damn, she has pointy teeth. "I'm Equius's roommate, Nepeta!" She cheerfully sticks out a hand to shake, and you take it, smiling bashfully and holding up the sheet with your spare hand because, what the hell. She seems sweet.

"Yeah. I'm sorry about screaming, you kind of caught me off guard. I'm sorry, I hope my coming over didn't disturb you in any way..."

"It's okay, I was staying over at a friends' house anyway! So, what's the story? I didn't hear Equius had a girlfriend, I thought you guys were just friends. He's mentioned you before." She raises an eyebrow, questioning silently. From her reaction, Equius doesn't bring home girls often.

"We're just friends... and lightweights." That pretty much sums up the whole problem. She nods knowingly and backs up enough for you to exit, with you still awkwardly draping a sheet around you, trying to keep yourself moderately decent.

"Nepeta?"

You turn around to find Equius staggering out of his bedroom, clad in only a shirt and boxers. Nepeta's grinning at him, and you swear he flushes red. Then he looks at you and his face turns scarlet. "A-aradia..."

Oops. Seems like sex isn't nearly as casual with him as it is with you. Nepeta winks at you before slipping away, leaving you alone in the hallway with a stammering guy. You put up a hand and adjust your sheet before he continues speaking. "It's okay, Equius, really." As he tries to protest, you shush him and continue speaking. "We were both really drunk, it's okay. We can just pretend this never happened!"

He still looks pretty upset. "I'm sorry, I should never have taken advantage of a lady while she was intoxicated..."

"Equius, calm down. It was more of my fault than yours. Calm down, it's okay, really."

He still doesn't look convinced, but he nods. "We're just friends. It's okay." You slip back into his room. "Now, if you could please excuse me, I have to get dressed. I'm going to be late for work."

You dress quickly, apply makeup hastily, and run out, trying to calm down an angry and worried Kanaya on the phone as you do, as she rages on about how you should have called last night. But mostly you need to get the fuck out of there

"Well, that certainly sounds messy. I told you you liked him."

"Strider, wipe that smirk off your face. We were drunk." You sigh and slide back into your seat. "We're just friends."

"That's a bunch of high quality bullshit. It's the finest fucking load of bullshit in the market, fresh and steaming with lies."

"That's disgusting."

"It's also true." He leans back in his seat, lanky and smug.

"Why so smiley?"

"Jade and I are getting married."

"I know. Because, usually, when people are engaged, they get married."

"The ceremony. We've got a set date."

"Congrats." Your voice is dry, but you still crack a smile, despite everything. "You guys are all sorts of fucking adorably, unironically cute, you know."

"Shhh, you'll ruin my cool kid persona. But yeah. It's in August."

"Why're you telling me this anyway?"

"Because I'm inviting you, stupid." He shifts in his seat and hands you a thick envelope that appears from his back pocket like magic. "I don't know your address, so here's the invitation letter."

You look at it before slipping into your purse. "I'll be there, although I don't know why you'd invite me."

"Please, we've been friends for years, Aradia. Don't put yourself down." He pats your cheek in an ironically paternal gesture before getting up. "Gotta go."

You nod before he disappears, and stand up to leave. The end of another day, and you should go home before you do anything stupid like drink. Equius smiles at you as you walk out, and you find yourself doing the same as you wave back.

Forget drinking, you better not do anything stupid like actually fall for anyone.


	3. Begin to Breathe

Your relationships tend to be complicated. Maybe this is in part because you're bad at relationships and partly because of your job and your overly casual approach to sex, and also because you're a bitch and try to stay away from them anyway. Everyone ends up hurt, so why are you going to bother? It isn't worth the effort. But being with Equius is insanely easy, the small blip that was drunkenly hooking up with him quickly forgotten as you both eased back into the smooth rhythm that was platonic friendship and Poe.

Or so you tell yourself. The truth is, things change. For example-

Long, long ago, you were in love with a boy named Sollux Captor. You probably broke his heart. Or stopped its beating. Very possibly both.

Maybe you might still love him, even though you don't deserve to. Even though he's probably not alive to receive your love, even if he hates you, you will always love him. And only him.

The thought that someone might possibly change that never occurred to you. It didn't occur to you the time Equius pinned you against a wall and ravaged you, leaving you both gasping for breath and muttering "friends with benefits" under your collective breaths. Or when your argument over Frost ended with some kissing and naughty hands. Not even when you realized you were thinking of him as Ampora gasped and sweated over your body while you moaned like a porn star.

Platonic friendship. Yep. You adjust the scarf hiding the hickeys he left last night as you saunter out of a Starbucks, whistling under your breath to the tune of the Friends intro theme. So much for that. But as long as feelings were left out of the sticky mess, you'd be fine. Feelings just made everything hard and unnecessarily complicated.

The steam from your coffee was a white wisp of cloud in the cold air. You couldn't wait for spring to finally show it's cowardly face, but you grin despite the frigid air when Equius shows _his _face, dark against the snow outside. You wait for him to sit down before you speak. "You wanted to talk?"

""Yes." He frowns, and behind those shades you're sure his eyes are tired and upset. The grin on your face fades quickly so it's just a dark slash of lips covered in deep red lipstick. "What is it?"

Oh god. You really hope he's not bringing up last night. You just want to neatly white-out that instance in your life, pretend he never said anything. Just thinking about it makes your stomach churn guiltily as you remember you have an appointment in three hours. The worst three words you knew, besides _we should talk_. "I have to go soon, so-"

"I meant what I said, Aradia. And we shouldn't let this continue on like this..." He sighs and runs a hand back over his hair, and you shift in your peacoat, suddenly feeling uncomfortably hot despite the shitty heating system in this little bookstore and the fact that there's half a foot of snow outside. Inside, you're thinking over twenty ways to run away without hurting his feelings.. You never meant for things to turn out like this, you didn't want to let him say-

"I love you, Aradia."

The words hung ominously over their heads as the silence lasted, going on and on and on without breaking, like a strand of cheese on a particularly stubborn slice of pizza. You try to think of something to say, but all that comes out of your mouth is "...how did this happen?"

"I don't know. It's just... you're smart, and beautiful, and clever and sweet and..." His face blushes and you know he's probably thinking of last night, when everything was perfectly okay until he held you in his arms and whispered those fatal words in your ear.

Damn everything to the pits of hell where you belong. It only took a few months to have him groveling at your feet, waiting for you to step on his feelings with your five inch heels. You open your mouth to tell him you're just friends- and stop.

The worst part is, you don't know what to do. Certainly, you know what you should do, which is snap his heart in two, change your number, cease to exist in his world. It's cleaner that way, before he finds out the truth (and you realize now how much you would hate yourself if he did know). A voice inside your head hesitantly speaks up, asking you something you don't want to know the answer to- would you hate yourself if you crushed his feelings?

And yes. You would.

"We're supposed to be friends," you murmur hesitantly, staring down into your cooling latte macchiato. "This wasn't supposed to happen..."

You can almost see his eyes drooping behind his shades, and a vice grip constricts your throat. You can't do this. You shouldn't do this. But you have to.

"Equius..."

He tilts your head up with his hands and presses a kiss to your lips. And you should push him away, but you kiss him instead and sigh. A reluctant smile tugs up at your lips as you pull away, and you sigh a second time. "We'll see where things take us, okay?"

He kisses your cheek before you leave, feeling both oddly light and extremely guilty.

* * *

><p><em>"Aradia, I'll love you forever."<em>

_"Same."_

_The words were spoken after their first time, as the sweat on their skin cooled and they huddled together, both similarly enthralled and terrified by the significance of their actions. You smiled and he kissed your cheek, and you cuddled until you fell asleep._

_Not too bad for the first of what would become many encounters._

* * *

><p>"You seem to be rather... apprehensive, Aradia. Would you mind telling me what bothers you?<p>

Rose and Kanaya look at you over their mugs of green tea (organic, no sugar, no cream, no milk) as you stir your coffee restlessly (Starbucks house blend, three sugars, lots of cream, and a splenda packet because why the hell not). "What do you mean?"

"You're different lately." Rose squints at you suspiciously, as if trying to detect any signs of weakness, which obviously makes you more nervous. You could almost see the cogs in her head turning furiously as they pick your psyche apart with a scalpel. "Is anything going on? Someone new in your life, perhaps?"

Having a psychologist glare at you was rather intimidating, so you make a noncommittal noise as you turned back to your coffee, and with the impeccable timing of a truly classy lady, Kanaya speaks as you take a long sip of the cooling dregs at the bottom of your cup. "Are you seeing someone?"

The first thing that runs through your head is "Equius." The second is, "_SHE KNOWS._"

You choke on your drink like an idiot.

At least you have the grace and common sense not to embarrass yourself by doing a comical spit take, but you come pretty close. Coughing violently, you wipe your mouth and swallow, wincing. Kanaya, obviously, fusses over you like the mother hen she is, but all the while, Rose is scrutinizing you, grey-violet eyes narrowed in intense analysis.

After you stop spluttering like a dying fish, you mutter "Why do you think that?" under your breath and try and see if the coffee'll come out of your shirt. Fuck, it's staining. Rose smirks triumphantly and repeats the question, and this time you grudgingly give her the answer she wants. "I guess so. It's..." You look up to see a cheerful Kanaya smiling proudly and the guilt that you felt when you weren't able to break Equius's heart returns with a vicious vengeance. She could never know, or Rose either.

"... complicated."

Kanaya smiles anyway. Oh fuck. That warm bubbly feeling in the pit of your stomach is battling the guilt, and you realize you're smiling too. Maybe Dave was right after all...

Your phone lights up and the bubbly feeling vanishes instantly. It's one of your, ah, appointments. "Excuse me." You head for your room, as Eridan sobs into your ear about that fucking girl he loves and how he'd like to see you tonight.

Yep, that's definitely guilt you feel after you hang up, and it only gets worse when Equius texts you, asking if you want to go to the park tomorrow night. What was a girl to do?

You text back a yes anyway.

* * *

><p>It's cold. You're late.<p>

Equius is sitting on the bench patiently, probably frozen to the bone, but still there, even though it's snowing. You join him on the ice cold bench with an extra large hot chocolate as a peace offering. "Hey there."

He greets you with a kiss on the cheek, and you snuggle close to him, wrapped up in a scarf and cozy despite the ice breeze. It's beautiful, like a scene out of a snow globe (ironic, you think, as you kick some of the white angel-like power off your shoe. Strider would appreciate it).

"Why'd you want to talk?" Your breath, steamy and hot from the cocoa, blows out a cloud of mist in the air.

"Because you seemed worried when we met at the coffee shop. Aradia... why are you so scared of relationships?"

Wait. What. The true temperature hits you like a punch to the jaw, and your hot chocolate feels like overly sugary brown ice water, your bones frozen, marrow, congealed blood. Bloodless fingertips, frostbitten toes, the works. You move to stand, he's got a hand on your elbow and tugs you down gently as possible, so you're sitting next to him. He wants answers.

"I'm not-"

Equius merely looks at you over his shades and sighs. You shrug deeper into your coat, suddenly uncomfortable. "If it's me, you can merely tell me. I don't want to feel as if I'm pushing my affections onto a lady."

_Oh, if only he knew- you never did tell him what you do for a living._

The ugly voice that is your conscience bites viciously at the back of your head, teeth and claws digging into your heart. And you know you should tell him to go, before you hurt him, but you like the way he's holding your together, both metaphorically and literally, an arm around your waist, and you kiss him. He seems surprised, but doesn't question your motives, doesn't know what you're trying to muster the courage to say.

You can't do it.

"Why?"

This time, at least you have the decency to not lie to yourself.

"I love you, Equius."

It's not until you feel the ice on your face that you realize you're crying.

"Aradia..."

"Once upon a time, long, long ago, there was a silly teenage girl." You wipe your face with the back of your hand, brushing away the thin streams of ice. "And she was in love with a nerdy boy who loved her back..."

* * *

><p>(I'm sorry that this is such a short chapter, and that it took so long? School is kicking my ass as of late.)<p> 


	4. Rest A Little While

Life is hard. Decisions are difficult. But being with him is easy.

And this is why you're sitting on the edge of his bed, already dressed waiting for him to wake up, despite your mind warning you that you're going to screw up and regret having let him into the cold embrace that is your heart. Or what it used to be. These days, you're really not sure what you are anymore. To him, to anyone. To yourself, even. The girl who looks back in the mirror smiles more, laughs more- but she's still a whore.

A whore?

In love?

A paradox, maybe. But you're too dizzy all the time with feeling something, _anything_. It could be love, but you're too scared to say it out loud again for a second time, in fear that you might be telling the truth. And that could be dangerous. And what do you know, anyway? You've only known him for a few months- definitely less than a year.

It doesn't matter anyway.

It's warm. The birds are chirping louder in the morning than frat boys on a Friday night, and that's saying something. It appears that spring had peeked out.

You feel a warm body around your ankles, and look down as you stand, almost tripping over the fuzzy little kitten, just weaned, that Nepeta brought home last week. It's adorable, and you scoop it up into your arms. It nips at your earlobe and you can't help but giggle. It'd be nice if you could wake up like this every morning. But happiness doesn't last, and a dark cloud comes in the form of Eridan Ampora sending you a text message.

In the last few weeks, you've found yourself accepting less and less jobs. It's gotten to the point where you're making enough to get along, just barely making enough to pay for rent and food and your basic necessities- and of course, your weekly deposit into your savings account, filled with dirty money that will pay your way out of the filthy hell you reside in.

The filthy hell being prostitution and not your apartment, of course. It's a really nice apartment, one you'll probably have to leave soon between not being able to afford it and the hints from Kanaya that Rose might be moving in with her soon. You still stick with Ampora and a few of your other more wealthy regulars, but you've about given up picking up customers at clubs and the like.

**CA: **_hey aradia_

**CA: **_i hope im not wwakin you up or anythin_

**AA: **_what is it, eridan?_

**CA: **_i kinda had a bad night and i was wwonderin if i could meet you later for a pick me up_

**AA: **_ab0ut that- im kinda busy t0day_

**CA: **_oh damn_

**CA: **_ill pay you twwice as much_

**CA: **_i really need to see you_

**AA: **_n0, amp0ra_

**AA: **_believe it 0r n0t i have a life 0utside of my j0b_

**AA: **_im s0rry_

**CA: **_ugh_

**CA: **_ill see you on our appointment_

**AA: **_ab0ut that_

**AA: **_im g0ing t0 have t0 cancel_

**CA: **_wwhat_

**CA: **_did somethin pop up_

**AA: **_kind 0f_

**CA: **_fuck_

**CA: **_i wwas lookin forwward to seein you_

**AA: **_s0rry again_

**CA: **_you knoww i only go to you_

**AA: **_yeah_

**AA: **_you told me 0nce when y0u were really drunk_

**AA: **_i l00k like this girl_

**CA: **_fuck_

**CA: **_did i actually say that_

Poor, pathetic bastard. If he weren't such a douche, you'd feel bad for him. As it stands you almost do, but then you remember his jealous rages when you look at other men in the club and that small smidgen of pity is instantly wiped away. Equius stirs, and you hastily go back to your phone.

**AA: **_yeah_

**AA: **_im s0rry_

**AA: **_i have t0 g0_

**CA: **_oh wwell okay_

**CA: **_ill see you_

**CA: **_wwhenever_

**AA: **_0kay_

**AA: **_bye i guess_

You push your hair back and drop your face in your hands with a low groan. Ugh. You need to start dropping your customers- and more importantly, go look for a job to replace yours. Why are you doing this? Your job is lucrative, convenient- soul crushingly shameful for someone who used to have such high hopes - but it pays the bills and it's your one way ticket to success, you hope.

It doesn't have anything to do with feelings you may or may not have for the man who sleepily sits up in bed, mostly naked.

That's what you tell yourself, at least. You're sticking with that story and you will until the proof is slammed into your face.

"What's wrong? You look extremely upset, Aradia."

You hadn't noticed him stand up. He's tugging on clothes now, probably late to his day job, but he looks at you with so much legitimate concern that it makes you tear up, nose stinging, you chest tightening as you realize just how much of a lying, cheating bitch you are. He cares, and his eyes show that he's really fucking worried. You know a lot of people, but you can count on your hands how many have ever really worried about you, and this man is one of them.

So you lie. It's how you deal with things like this.

"I just got a text from my manager."

"What did she have to say?"

"She fired me."

Equius stops halfway through putting on a shirt to crease his eyebrows inn worry. "I'm sorry, Aradia."

"Let go- bullshit. I guess she got some teenagers that'll take minimum wage to replace me."

"In this economy, people will stoop to new lows to save a few pennies." He pauses for a few seconds before he speaks again. "Forgive me, if I seem forward, but if you need a place to stay-"

He flushes before continuing (why he does that, even after having been together for a few months- if you could even call what you two had a relationship, you could never understand). "We could move in together, if you can't afford to pay the rent."

Oh dear god.

"Are you... serious?"

"Think about it. If you can't pay your rent- well, Nepeta is thinking of moving in with a few of her friends from her school, anyway, and I make more than enough money to cover everything- or, at least, you could stay until you got a new job... or longer, if you want?"

Holy shit. Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

"I'll see how stuff goes. I'll need to find a new job-"

"We can go job hunting today."

"But don't you have work today?"

"I'll go ahead and call in sick. I never call in sick, but this is more important than someone's flat tires. You're more important."

"You don't have to-"

"I know. I want to." He gives you a smile and as you mumble something about going to make coffee, he takes a hold of your wrist.

"You can still move in if you'd like. I hope I'm not moving too fast-"

You press a gentle kiss to his lips before finishes the sentence, and slip out the door before he can stop you. Fuck coffee, you're making a full out breakfast.

The apartment's small, but well laid out. The kitchen's down the hall, with the living room dividing the place in two. Nepeta's bedroom is on the other side of it, right next to the bathroom she shares with Equius. As you enter the kitchen, you see a certain little girl sitting at the table with a bowl of fruit loops. Speak of the devil.

"Hey there!" She smiles up at you, and again you feel that warm rush of feeling. Nepeta accepted you immediately, telling you that you made Equius happy, and the look she gives you is innocent- sure, she's got to be nineteen or twenty, but there's something childish about her. Childish and innocent, but fiercely protective and older than her years at the same time, like an older sibling protecting a younger one. Maybe it was the more like the other way around, and yet...

"Hi, Nepeta. I hope it doesn't bother you when I come over..."

"It's okay! I sleep with headphones on every night anyway." She smirks at you and you flush a bit, but then the smile drops from her face somewhat. "Sit down. I wanna talk to you. It's about Equius."

"Um, okay." You take a seat, suddenly paranoid, that she'd figured it out, that she was going to break Equius's heart, that _you_ were going to break his heart.

""You know Equius is really, really introverted, right? Like, he used to be really antisocial and stuff. We've been best friends since were little kids, and he was always really awkward and stuff. He hit puberty early, got really big and muscular and sweaty. And I was kind of a total dork, really annoying- oh my god, my middle school weeaboo stage. Ugh, I was terrible. But we were each other's best friends- not even, more like soul mates, but totally platonic. I was always there for him to cheer him up when he was down, and he kind of watched over me.

"When I was in high school, I went out with this guy who was a stoner. And he was super sweet most of the time, but I found him sober one time during our prom in a closet and he tried to..."

Her voice trailed off, and she shuddered at the memory. "Anyway, Equius heard me screaming and pulled him off of me, beat the living crap out of him. Gave the guy a concussion, broken ribs, broken nose, etc. He was a rich kid too, his parents sued us, can you believe it? That's how he lost his scholarship to that school he wanted to go to, because he got suspended, and they wanted to expel him, and neither of us had much money, and it sucked because Equius was a really great student. And I remembered I was crying and I kept apologizing to him, and he looked me dead in the eye and told me he wouldn't ever let _anyone_ hurt me, no matter what. And then he hugged me, really tight, and told me that I was his best friend in the world and I would always be."

"Oh my god." There were tears pricking at your eyes, but you hastily wipe them away before Nepeta notices.

"Yeah. He really is a great guy. But anyway, I might as well get to the point. Equius's has always been kind of a loner besides me, and I've never seen him so happy with anyone. You make him so happy, Aradia- you're sweet and funny and smart and kind... and he's my best friend.

"So if you guys want to move in together, that's totally great, and I give you my full support. But just remember-"

Nepeta's face shifts. One moment it's sweet, reminiscent and earnest, the next it's terrifyingly serious. Her face is a mask of dark fury that makes you flinch in shock. What happened to the cute little girl?

"Like I said, Equius is my best friend and he's saved me before. Don't hurt him, because I am fully capable of returning the favor."

She grins, showing a mouth of pointy teeth. You notice she has pretty long nails, and wince. The creepy grin slides off and her face reverts to normal. "Sorry about that, it's the whole stereotypical 'don't-hurt-him-or-I'll-make-you-pay' speech I'm required to do as his best friend. But don't hurt him, he means a lot to me. And you mean a lot to him. He's a nice guy and he deserves a sweet girl like you."

Ow. Ow. This girl was triggering you guilty conscience so much it actually hurt. "Thank you."

"The coffee's over there. Sorry we don't have anything more filling, like bacon. He's a vegetarian, but I'm practically a carnivore! It's kinda funny."

"Yeah, I know." You smile, despite everything.

"By the way, we're having a group of friends over in a few days. I think you'd get along really well with them! You should be here."

"I will, don't worry."

"So you're quitting? About time."

"Yeah. I mean, he asked me to move in with him. And I need to move on with my life." 

"Be careful. You don't want those nasty skeletons in the closet haunting you. Lock it up, throw the key into a furnace. You don't want to break that kids heart."

"I think I love him. Dave, how do you know if you're in love with someone?"

Strider looks down at his lap, at the ring on his finger. "You know when you'd give up everything for someone. When you'd turn your back on what's easy and grow up for them."

"Hm. That sounds hard."

"It is. But sometimes it's worth it."

"is she worth it?"

He chuckled, twisting the ring on his finger. "Yes."

"We went looking for jobs today. I think Equius intimidated everyone into giving me an interview. There's a spot as a secretary at a museum. My interview is this Friday."

"Good job. I'm proud. Use your head to make money instead of giving it to make money."

You flip him off and scoff. He chuckles and rises, patting your head in some ironic paternal gesture. "I have to go. You have fun, but not too much fun, alright?"

"Fuck off and good night."

"Atta girl."

You slide back into your seat and sigh. Life was hard. Being with Equius was easy.

But good things didn't last.


	5. No One Ever Smiled

She should have seen this coming.

In fact, she was somewhat shocked that it hadn't happened earlier. But this.

This was karma at its cruelest, karma saw her climbing up the stairs to happiness and turned the steps to a chute beneath her feet, sending her sliding down, throwing her into a pile of moldy garbage bags. And she tried to crawl out into the street for help, bones broken, head fuzzy, bleeding, begging, crying, but like it always is with these kinds of stories, the worst injuries were internal.

Namely, a heart ripped apart, broken beyond repair.

But the story first.

* * *

><p>"Eridan, you're drunk."<p>

This was obvious from the moment you'd picked up the phone. His words were heavily slurred, his voice ragged. He was also probably crying.

"I just... I need someone right now. Oh fuck, I just..." There was some more hiccupping, then a sob.

"Eridan. I'm busy. I can't meet you."

"Well, fuck you! Fuck you and fuck her and fuck everythin' an' everyone else who won't give me the fuckin' time of day, you bastards."

You look in the mirror. The girl who looks back is a new secretary. You talked with Kanaya yesterday, and although she argued it was okay and that you could stay, you finally reassured her that you weren't getting married or pregnant or anything and you just wanted to live with your boyfriend and that now she could have Rose move in and that everything would be okay.

You didn't know how wrong everything would be in just a few minutes, but you were happy, if a bit irritated at the moment.

"Eridan, calm down, please. I can't see you today and that's final."

"That fuckin' bitch, I can't fuckin' believe her..."

"Eridan. Eridan, please."

"NO, FUCK YOU! YOU'RE JUST LIKE HER!"

"I'm sorry, but I have a life, okay!"

"I'll pay you anythin'. I just need someone right now."

"Eridan, I'm quitting."

There was a long, deadly silence on the other side.

"What the bloody fuck do you mean? You can't reject me. I pay you. I fuckin' pay you!"

"Maybe I want something better in my life. Why am I even arguing with you, you're drunk out of your mind."

"You can't fuckin' do this!"

'I just did."

There's a knock on the door. A high pitched voiced calls out. "Aradia, our guests are here. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm on the phone, Nep, excuse me."

"Fuck you fuck her fuck everyone fuck you fuck her fuck everythin'-"

A deeper man's voice calls out. "Aradia?"

Oh fuck.

"Equius, I'll be right there, just give me one second-"

"Oh, so I see how it is. Switch me out with someone different. You can't leave me, everyone leaves me-"

"Aradia, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I am-"

"YOU CAN'T FUCKIN' DO THIS YOU FUCKIN' TWO FACED TWAT!"

There's a long silence from the other side of the door, interrupted by a deep growl. "Is someone harassing you over the phone?"

"Oh, no, it's nothing, really-"

"YOU'RE A FUCKIN' BITCH, JUST LIKE HER. JUST GO FUCK EVERYONE ELSE WHO'LL GIVE YOU A FEW BUCKS, WON'T YOU, YOU CUNT."

"That's it."

You hear a loud screeching noise as Equius demolishes the lock, forcing the door open.

"Equius, it's nothing, really..." You push out of the bathroom, starting to panic a bit. Eridan is beyond wasted, so drunk you'd call an ambulance if you weren't so worried.

But you never knew what panic was until Equius grabs your phone.

"Who the hell is this?" He snaps into the phone. "And why the hell are you harassing my girlfriend?"

He grips the phone tightly, and you hear a small '_beep_' as he hits the speaker button.

In that instant, you know it's all over, because if there's one thing you know about Eridan, it's that he's a vindictive, jealous, possessive rich bastard. Still, you lunge at the phone, trying to stop the first domino from falling over. You manage to nudge Equius into the living room, where the guests are chatting.

In the second before Eridan replies, you happen to glance at the sofas. And their occupants. And you feel the entire world crash to the ground like it was an old glass Christmas ornament from the top of the tree.

_This can't be happening this can't be happening._

In that moment you _knew_ there was no god, because no god could be so cruel.

There's a familiar blonde girl with blue eyes and big glasses, cuddling against a familiar tan boy with a mohawk, hair falling over his forehead. The legs poking out of his shorts are not human, but metal, just like the left arm of the girl is.

_Oh god, why._

There's a strawberry blonde girl with a Labrador retriever sitting by her ankles and shades blocking her eyes. She's sitting by a grouchy Indian looking guy in a baggy hoodie, and holding his hand and giggling mischievously.

_No._

But it's the final couple, the couple talking to an excited Nepeta, that kills you. The girl is beautiful, long dark hair cascading down her back, purple glasses framing her eyes. She has her head against the shoulder of a ghost.

He still has the same smirk, the same slouch, the same glasses and thin face, the blue and amber eyes, the lisp. He was the boy you killed, the boy who broke your heart, the boy with the matching bands on his ring finger of his left hand.

The boy you loved kisses the girl tenderly, the girl you suddenly hate with a burning, selfish passion. And just like that, you feel your legs give way. The other turn in surprise to see you, and you see the shock on everyone's faces, but you're numb. You can't breathe, and you're far away, and you see Sollux's eyes meet yours in horror, and he mouths your name at the same instant that you hear Eridan shout back angrily, oh so conveniently loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Oh god. This is fuckin' perfect. Don't you know what your precious girlfriend does for a living? She screws rich bastards like me, you fuckin' tool. This is rich. This is just so goddamn perfect."

The words seem to echo across the room, and you can't look. You stumble to your feet, using the wall as support. You can feel eyes burning holes into your back. They're judging you, they're judging you.

"You're lying." Equius's voice is a thumbnail, twisting in an open wound. "You're lying."

"Oh, you wish. And she's good at it too. But you'd know that, wouldn't you?"

You turn and see his face, and that's it, you're so close to begging on your knees for the torture to stop, you can already feel tears forming, acid churning, begging you to purge the poison that has already begun to take effect.

There's a long silence in which you burn internally, under the stares of everyone in the room, broken only by the beautiful girl who you know is named Feferi hesitantly whispering.

"Eridan...?"

Vriska, Tavros, Nepeta, Terezi, Karkat, Equius, Sollux, Eridan- they're all waiting for you to react.

And you do. The ice has started creeping up inside your stomach, covers your heart. First you freeze it numb, then you coat on the cement, and that dries. And the pressure creates diamonds, because diamonds are hard and can't be broken. And you need to be ice cold and hard. It's the only way. You snatch the phone out of Equius's hands (how you did it, you would later speculate upon, since you're shaking so horribly you don't even know how you manage to do anything), and speak.

"Since I won't be around to do it for you, kindly go fuck yourself."

And you throw the phone with a vicious vengeance at the wall. There's a loud cracking noise, and the instant everyone turns to look at it instinctively, you grab your bag and run.

There are shouts behind you, but you don't have time to look back. From the sound, you're being pursued by at least two people, but their shouting is too loud for you to make out specific voices. You may be wearing heels, but you have the advantage of a head start, and you use it to your advantage.

You make your way down the stairs at full speed, tripping at the end and crashing headlong into a wall. There's a moment of blurry pain, and you might be bleeding, but you're up and running again before you can catch your breath.

Outside, it's begun to rain.

You don't stop. You keep running, trying to outrun the monsters that chase you in your dreams and in reality.

You're out of breath, banged up, and aching, but it's a long time before you dare stop. You've lost them. You've lost everyone, and you slide down the wall of the alley you're crouching in, where you belong with the filth, and let yourself cry.

It's a long time before the rain stops, and longer before you stop sobbing, your throat raw. You're soaking wet, but the little scrap of dignity you have left finds the jacket you had folded up in your bag, and put it on. You have only one goal in life at the moment, and it's to forget everything.

This is easily accomplished with a bottle of vodka you buy at the first liquor store you find. The cashier looks at you, wet and filthy, and hands you the bottle, neatly packed, along with your change, in silence. You hate him a little for this, but you hate yourself more.

You still hate yourself after the first gulp (which burns as it goes down). So you keep going until everything is a blur of color and you're trying to keep your breakfast down. You drop the bottle and it smashes. Maybe that's a good thing. There was still a lot left, but you've already drank too much. The edge of the day has been replaced by numbness, then apathy, then it hits you again and it's worse than before, and you vomit painfully. You have work Monday, you remember, but you don't care about anything anymore.

It's late when someone finds you, a young, rather nerdy looking guy in a green shirt who says his name is Andrew and gently asks you where you live so he can call you a cab.

It then strikes you you're essentially homeless.

After you calm down from a short bout of hysterics, he asks you if there's anywhere you can go. You reach into your bag and hand him the invitation to Dave and Jade's wedding, silently pointing at the return address. It's the first thing that occurs to you. He nods and calls for a cab, and then almost tenderly helps you in, paying the cab driver and muttering a few words to him before he closes the door behind you.

You spend the ride with your head pressed against the cold glass, still sniveling. The cabbie lets you out, and you stumble out.

Almost immediately, the door bursts open and a very angry, or perhaps worried Dave storms out. You're too soused to care which it is, and you lose your balance as you try walking towards him.

Strong hands grab you by your upper arms and shake you. There's muffled swearing, and a pretty, curvy woman runs behind Dave and grabs ahold of your feet. Between the two, they carry you up the stairs. It isn't pleasant, but you have just enough strength to keep yourself from puking over your saviors.

Something soft is underneath you. You realize it's a couch, and you lie there for a few seconds as they rest their muscles, and the pretty woman helps you stagger to the bathroom, where you vomit out everything you've eaten (not much) and what alcohol's left in your stomach (not much). She wipes your face like your mom used to do when you were a kid and got a stomach flu, and you cry some more. No one asks any questions, and the duo carry you to a bed, where you collapse and sleep like the dead.


	6. She Wasn't A Child

_"Will you love me forever?"_

_"Of course, Aradia. I love you."_

_The words were accompanied by a few gentle kisses, a few naughty words, and the giggling always associated with such things. He liked to whisper in your ear in bed, tickle you and make you laugh. To be fair, you were stupid. You were crazy for that boy, and you could think of no other future but one with him at your side, you in a white dress, he in a tux, and he would kiss you goodnight every night and you'd raise your beautiful children together._

_And you would have been so happy, and it was right there, just out of your grasp._

_But he lied, he lied, he lied._

_And you lied too._

"Aradia?"

It wasn't Sollux. It wasn't Equius.

"Honey, are you awake?"

Through a tiny slit, you see a dark eyes and long, dark hair. The voice, the gentle touch, the words, and the even the smell reminds you so strongly of your mother, you tear up before you can do anything else.

"Oh gosh, no, baby, don't cry. It's okay now." The words were worried and soft, but they only make you cry harder. If only she knew.

_"Baby, pass me the bottle, will you?"_

_"Mommy, are you okay?"_

_"Mommy's just a bit tired, honey. Go to bed, okay?"_

_"But... okay."_

Nostalgia and painful memories bite viciously, and it takes a few minutes of sniffling to calm down. You're a grown woman. Too old for tears.

_"How can you be a woman if you never grew up, or if you were never a kid at all?"_

You open your eyes, expecting harsh light to make you flinch in pain, but the room is pretty dark. The curtains are drawn, sparing your eyes. It's still definitely daytime, but someone has predicted your hangover and has taken mercy.

A girl sits on the bed. She looks like your mother for an instant, a remnant of old dreams and old reality.

"It's okay, don't cry! Here..."

Except that she is a woman and not a girl. Jade Harley, Dave Strider's fiancée, who you have never met in person before, is sitting at your bedside with water. Your head is splitting open, and you open your mouth to thank her, but she just leaves the glass on the bedside table and kisses your forehead before leaving.

It's a gesture that was probably pretty weird in retrospect, but it just seemed so right at the moment, and you drift back off. The whole thing's off, everything is wrong and nothing makes sense, and it's a Saturday morning and you're sick , sick like a little child, and you don't really know where you are, and you're too drained too care.

It's later on when you're acting like your normal, sentient bipedal sapient self again that Dave comes in. He's considerably less gentle with you than Jade was, flat out telling you the truth.

"What the actual fuck were you thinking?"

You pull the covers over your head and groan. "I wasn't thinking. I was reacting."

"You flipped the fuck out. I've never seen you drunk, much less totally blasted like you were. Do you know how lucky you were? The cabbie said some good Samaritan saved your ass. Jade wanted to take you to the hospital."

"I'm sorry... I kind of had a bad night."

"Damn fucking straight you're sorry. My phone has been blowing up all night. Jade watched over you like you were some goddamn baby. She worries."

"What do you mean about your phone?"

"Equius asked me if I knew where you were. Apparently your roommate was freaking out that you didn't come home last night. And, it turns out that it's a scary small world."

"What do you mean...?"

There's an impatient knock at your door, and a familiar voice calls out. "David, can we come in?"

Dave's probably making a face behind his shades, but you can't see it. "Whatever."

"Oh my god." A small world indeed.

An extremely angry looking Kanaya and bored looking Rose are in the doorway, and you don't understand what's going on until you look at Dave and it all hits you. The two blondes, frighteningly similar in appearance, are staring each other down.

"Hello, _David_."

"_Rosaline,_ I'm not in the mood for your freaky psychobabble shit. I'm trying to be a good friend here."

"As am I. But your refusal to submit to even the gentlest of questionings is rather suspicious. Is there something you're trying to suppress? Another homoerotic dream, perhaps?"

Dave opens his mouth, probably to protest, but you cut him off.

"Wait, Dave, you have a sister? Rose... wha..."

"We're fraternal twins. I know it's rather difficult to believe, but to be fair, I was raised by our mother after our parent's divorce, so I can give him the benefit of doubt that he might have turned out decent if it'd been the other way around." Rose is smirking now, and Dave looks irritated, but that's all the time you have to dwell on that because Kanaya is sitting down next to you, and she grabs you by the shoulders, with no consideration to your fading hangover, tells you off.

"What did I say, Aradia? We had an agreement. An _agreement_. Do you know what an agreement is? It's when two people consent to something, and then follow through on their promise, instead of breaking it. Do you _know_ how _worried_ I was?"

"Kanaya, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"

"And why didn't you tell me?"

This time, it's not your bender she's talking about, and the entire room stills awkwardly. You stare at your knees like some teenager being lectured by a teacher, and mutter out an answer.

"Didn't quite catch that, Aradia."

"I'm sorry."

"I didn't ask for an apology, I asked about why you didn't trust me enough! You're a smart, sweet, beautiful, classy lady... why?"

"I don't know. Maybe we can blame an absent father, or the economy as it is..." You glare at Rose before she can get a word in otherwise, and she closes her mouth, frowning.

Kanaya sighs. "I could have helped, Aradia. Lowered your rent quota. Pitched in, helped you get a job... they're always asking for models down at my school... we could have worked together, but instead you didn't tell me.

"You're my friend, and friends help each other out. That's what they're for. " She isn't even using ridiculously long words anymore, and guilt creeps in. Who knew you had any more space for regret and pain left?

"I didn't want you to hate me. I didn't want you to think I was a cheap skank or whatever..."

There's silence as she tries to find a way to get around that, and then Rose speaks. "Aradia, the first thing Kanaya did when she got the call was figure out where you were. We don't care about what you do for a living as much as we do about you."

"I quit. Which, ironically enough, started this whole mess." You laugh breathlessly, and people step back. You're still on the edge of hysteria, and it shows.

"Come back home with us. Nothing else matters for now."

"No. I can't intrude. I'll find some crappy apartment somewhere, or rent a room somewhere- my new job should cover that." That's right. You have a new job, a blissfully ordinary job with paperwork you'll come to hate, one that'll cover your expenses and maybe even allow you to save some money here and there.

Kanaya firmly plants herself of the edge of the bed. "I'm not leaving until you come with us."

"Ugh."

"I'm deadly serious."

"No, really, I'm fine-"

"You're coming with us." Her face sets into a mask of grim determination to do the best to you, whether you're willing or not.

There's no point in resisting her when she's like this. "Fine."

She stands abruptly, quiet, elegant, determined. "A word, Mr. Strider."

You feel like a fucking kid, a kid caught with your goddamn metaphorical hand in the bloody metaphorical cookie jar. And Kanaya is your disappointed mother, except you wouldn't know, you never had a mother. She speaks hurriedly outside the door, voice low, lips buzzing too quickly for your hungover eyes to read, quiet and eloquent. Dave nods once, twice. You have no idea what they're talking about, just know that it involves you.

And that's okay with you, because suddenly you just want to cry and sleep and have someone to pat (never wipe, that drags the skin and causes premature sagging and wrinkles, Kanaya once told you) your tears away, brush your hair until you drift off. You'd say you were having a bad day, but it's more like having a bad existence.

So instead of taking responsibility by standing up and doing some damage control for your fucked up life, you stare at the ceiling until you have to get up.

You wonder how Equius is doing.

* * *

><p><span>Author's Note<span>

I'm so sorry for my unintended hiatus, as well as the ridiculously short length of this chapter. Life has taken its heavy foot and kicked me in the ass with it lately. But with some luck I might be able to wrap this story up before December holidays! For American readers, I hope you had a nice Thanksgiving! You guys are awesome in general, and remember it's okay to ask me any questions on my tumblr.

I'm currently working on a much bigger project to follow up this fic, as well as some other fics- some more Dave/Jade, some in-canon works, etc. Ideas/suggestions are welcome! And this AN is dragging on, so I guess I'll cut it here with another thanks!


	7. Beneath The Olive Tree

(Time) is a weird thing. You like thinking it's somewhat like water- it can rush by so fast it looks like (a rush of happiness, knowing everything is alright in the world because he's with you and you can kiss him and lay with him in your arms) white, it can crawl by leisurely, taking its time while you writhe in pain, submerged underneath an ocean, the pressure crushing your lungs. It's been two weeks, and you can feel the edges of your existence fading away silently as you're wiped away.

You've avoided everyone at any and all costs, people who could bring back ugly memories. You leave your room for only the most basic of needs- food, work, the bathroom. Dave's come by. You locked yourself in every time and blasted music so loudly the neighbors complained until he finally gave up and left. Kanaya's tried talking to you. You stare at the wall and let the white noise that's always buzzing in your ears drown out everything she tries to tell you. Rose is the only person who knows not to try, and she slinks around, throwing you looks you can't decipher from time to time.

You're probably depressed or something like that. ("Understatement of the century," Rose would tell you later on.)

Your job is tedious and hard work, but it's what gets you out of bed at all anymore. One of your co-workers seems to have a crush on you. He has a funny accent and a weird fascination with skulls and green jackets, but he's sweet, and you find him looking at some of the older architectural marvels in the building often. You've chatted a couple of times, but he's just a kid, really, not even twenty, just an intern freshman, bright eyed and fresh faced. Probably a virgin too. It seems like forever ago that you were one of those. It's a funny thing, (time).

(Time) has lost all meaning for you. You stare at your watch and don't understand what the numbers mean, what every tick is and why it's tock is so important. You've forgotten, underneath a thick shell of ice. Once upon a (time), there was a girl who loved a boy, had her heart broken, fixed, and broken again. And like hell is she letting anywhere near enough again to try and glue the pieces back together. She tried and ended up with sliced up fingers and splinters. Nope, not trying that again.

This goes on for some (time). And then Kanaya finally loses her patience. You wake up to a few muted clicks- you've become a light sleeper, prone to nightmares- and the door swings open, despite the fact you were sure you'd locked it. Your dear friend and roommate is glaring at you, an impressive set of wires clutched in her hands.

"That's _enough._"

Say what you want about Kanaya. Overprotective? Yes. A meddler? Yes. A coddler, a motherly worrywart? Yes. And maybe she tended to go off on tangents and worry too much about hypothetical situations, but the woman did not screw around when there was work to be done.

"Get up."

"But I don't have work for another few hours, come on, it's a Saturday..."

She rips the covers off, exposing your legs to the early morning chill. You shriek in shock and scramble for warmth, but she tosses them out of your reach. "No, I've had it with your one man pity party, Aradia. You are going to call in sick, and you're going to get dressed and coming with me."

"Kana-"

"Go shower." She turns around and walks out calmly, as if she hadn't just burst into some innocent woman's room and woken her up without a good reason.

By the time you're ready, Kanaya is waiting on the sofa, waiting for you to emerge from your room. You try to ask her what the hell is going on, or at least where you're going, but she shushes you. The pair of you take the elevator in silence, and she hums to herself as you get out to the curb. There's a taxi waiting for you two, and you again try to ask her something, but she glares at you until you shut up.

The city's just waking up, stretching its arms over its head, yawing and rubbing its bleary eyes. You can see stores opening up, people that have places to be at on the move, and you again wonder what Kanaya has in store. Then again, you don't really care about that so much as you do the fact that a few hours of sleep have been rudely ripped from you. It's one of the few things you enjoy anymore, and even that is plagued with nightmares. But at least there's Lunesta to help you sleep when they get really bad.

The ride's not that long, but you're somewhat lost in thought, so you don't think much of it until you step out of the cab. You're somewhere in Midtown, and Kanaya's striding towards a cafe. You barely have (time) to ask "What the hell is going on?" before you see them.

All of them.

"Wh- what-"

Kanaya's face is unreadable. "You need to face your problems. I thought I'd call a powwow, to try and work out your problems. Rose suggested it- "

"Is this some really fucked up version of Intervention? Okay, where are the cameras? Ahahaha, look, you made the slut cry! Is that what you want? Of course it is, you sick, sick-"

Sollux cuts you off. "Hey, AA."

The familiar nickname catches you off guard. He's standing there, still kind of slouchy, still heartbreakingly handsome with the imprint of a smirk on his face. And he has the nerve to be next to _her, _and she's gorgeous and hoity-toity, little rich bitch in Jimmy Choo heels, Prada bag, and you'd bet everything that that was Dior you smell. But she doesn't look at you with disgust like you want her to, any excuse so you can smash her pretty face in, or even pity. She looks at you like you're human. They all do.

You can forgive them. You hate her anyway. Or you can try to.

"Hey."

Equius looks extremely awkward, silent and hulking in the corner of the small shop. Nepeta is nursing a mug of green tea, and keeps patting Equius's arm every time you speak. Guilt churns in your abdomen, but Sollux keeps speaking, so you focus your attention on him again.

"So. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

"Obviously."

The room is uncomfortably silent. You don't blame them, the atmosphere is tense, crackling with the stench of old skeletons being pulled from the earth. Time has only worsened their condition, and now you're ignoring the elephant in the room against common sense, because it's a pretty small room and said metaphorical elephant has everyone pinned to the walls with its girth.

It's Vriska who shatters the silence, pulls out an imaginary needle and stabs the blow up elephant in the ass. "So Sollux isn't dead, you thought he was, and you're a hooker now?"

The entire room flinches visibly. Tavros lets out a shocked "_Vriska_!", and Nepeta chokes on her tea. Equius looks like he wouldn't mind stepping up and smacking Vriska across the face. Hell, so does everyone else. Feferi fidgets uncomfortably, and you're gritting your teeth.

"Thank you very much, Vriska, for summing up the whole situation..." Kanaya looks mortified, and you can practically hear her mentally decking her in the face. Rose has the look of an embarrassed mother. They're both probably repeating their delicately worded speeches, ones you're sure they were planning to say. In a way, though, you're almost grateful. It's all out now, and for a few seconds, the attention has shifted elsewhere.

"Yes, yes, no."

"But I heard-"

"Was, Vriska, was. Past tense." Kanaya pats her hand, and the focus is on you again. "I. Uh."

This time, it's Terezi who spares you. She's sitting by Karkat, head resting on his shoulder, his face wearing the familiar look of someone who'd rather be anywhere else but here. "We know, Aradia. The prosecution would like to ask you some questions, first."

"I- Wait, what?"

Karkat looks at you under a fringe of unkempt hair. "She's been like this since she started law school. It's driving everyone up the fucking walls. Just ignore it, you've got deeper shit to deal with than some freaky blind girl's fantasies."

Blind. You frown. That's your fault too.

"Karkat, _rude_! I'm only legally blind, dunkass, and I'll be the one asking the questions." Her head swivels in your direction. "Why'd you leave?"

How were you supposed to answer something like that? You were seventeen, scared, desperate, orphaned, almost definitely homeless, heartbroken- why wouldn't you?

"I don't know."

"Liar."

Terezi's peering at you through those glasses. You can't see her eyes- you're glad you don't have to see her straining to make out your face. Guilt floods your stomach, but for some morbid reason, you need to know. "How much can you see?"

Unexpectedly, her face cracks into a huge, shark like grin. "I can make out the general shape and color of things if I'm close enough. You're wearing dark red today, your hair is down, and you're wearing black stockings. I can't read regular text anymore, but I've gotten really good at Braille, and I can make my way around fine, but Senator Lemonsnout and my cane are here for guidance and security. Relax. I'm fine." She pets the golden retriever sitting at her feet, and you shift your eyes up to Vriska and Tavros, curled up together. Who'd have thought?

Tavros catches your eyes and nearly (figuratively) trips over himself in his rush to reassure you he's fine. "I've had surgeries to repair my spine, and the prosthetics are pretty great, I don't even need crutches most days anymore. I can walk, at least, which is, uh, pretty cool." He glances at the girl in his arms, and then hesitantly asks the question you really want answered. "We're okay, right?"

"I don't have a fucking left eye, Tavros."

The room winces.

" My arm is metal and plastic and wire and my depth perception is fucked." She swivels around to face you, and you see the glass eye stare into your soul. "You were driving. You crashed the car. Sure, you couldn't help it. But there's no reason to leave everything behind like a goddamn coward. You ran away. You thought that'd make everything better? How about explaining to your boyfriend that his girlfriend left him for dead?"

Ouch.

"How about his parents freaking out about you? How about him? Did you even _think_? Did you realize how selfish you were?"

"Vriska, that's enough." Sollux is grimacing, his lisp still there. "We're here to move on."

"Let me finish, for fucks' sake. You were immature and bratty and you not only fucked everyone over, you fucked yourself up, and supposedly half of New York, as well-"

"Vriska!"

"-and you have the _nerve_ to run away when shit hits the fan? Literally run away? That's a dick move. You'd know, too-"

"Vriska, shut _up_!" Sollux and Equius shout at her simultaneously, and she glares at them. If looks could kill, they'd both be dead, one functioning eye or not.

"Well, _exuuuuuuuuse me- _I'm trying to make the little princess come to terms with something she's been avoiding for the last five years- reality. I don't want a fucking apology. I've moved on, Tavros has moved on, Terezi has, Sollux has- everyone has, but you. "

"I was moving on, in a way," you mutter, sneaking a furtive glance at Equius, still sitting in the corner, nearly comical next to the tiny girl sipping tea next to him. "But-"

"Then move on! You've got a legit job, you've got people who care, and we don't hate you. I don't, at least, and everyone knows I'm the biggest bitch of everyone here." She sweeps across the room, and there's a general murmur of assent.

"But I-"

"No buts. Make your peace with the world, build a bridge, and get the fuck over yourself. " She settled back into her seat, satisfied with having imparted her wisdom to the lesser fortunate.

"You've grown up."

"Thank you for noticing, princess. Believe it or not, even the biggest bitch matures somewhat over time." She smirks and curls up under Tavros' arm. "Your turn now."

The room quieted down again.

"I'm sorry."

Silence.

"I'm sorry for running away. And I'm sorry I lied about everything. I'm sorry I hurt you guys..."

A few people nod in agreement.

"Sollux?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry I left."

"I'm sorry I made you worry."

"Terezi- I'm sorry for about your eyes."

"Pssssh. It's in the past now."

"Tavros- I'm sorry about your legs."

"I'm fine now! See, I can walk-"

"How about meeeeeeee?"

"Vriska. I'm sorry about your eye. And your arm."

"I'll forgive you eventually."

"Kanaya, Rose, I'm sorry for making you worry."

"We're here for you, just tell us if there's a problem, alright?"

"Jade, Dave, thanks for helping me out."

"No problem."

"Anytime!"

"Equius..."

Nepeta grimaces, and you see one child's hand tighten around a giant one, rough from years of hard work.

"I'm sorry. For lying. For everything I did."

He's unreadable, and you hate yourself for it. You've so far prided yourself on being able to read him, after months of being together.

It hurts. It hurts and nobody understands.

The entire rooms tenses, and a few start muttering excuses about how they have to go. Slowly, they trickle out, Kanaya and Rose throw you sympathetic looks (you have no doubt they're going to murmur to each other how they would have done things differently, and therefore, better) as they walk out, Terezi grins at you (accompanied by an irritated scoff on Karkat's part), Tavros smiles, and you smile back, before Vriska rolls her eyes and sashays out, arm in arm with the former loser, he her victim once.

Funny how love works.

Equius and Nepeta stand as the last people leave. They exchange a few short words, and she kisses his cheek quickly, and you hate yourself a little for being jealous, and a little more for being the reason he's so obviously hurt. Nepeta shoots you a piercing glare that you could swear actually burns a little. Forget if looks could kill, they can, as evidenced by the pain you feel in her look of betrayal.

_"I trusted you with his heart, and you hurt him,"_ the look says.

"I'll talk to you later, Aradia. I'll wait outside."

"Sure." If you say anymore, you might cry.

He nods, and then the only people left are Feferi, Equius, and you, not counting the fedora wearing gentleman owner of the shop. He glances around, sees the three of you, and courteously walks out, pipe in hand. Feferi smiles at you, a forgiving smile, and kisses Sollux gently before leaving you alone with him.

You hate yourself even more for not being able to hate her. She's obviously taken good care of Sollux in your absence, his only pain at the moment is you, and he breaks the awkward silence by speaking.

"Aradia."

"Sollux."

"It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Five years come and gone, and you'll never forget his touch, awkward from inexperience and adolescence. He still has his lisp, still tall, no longer awkward.

"No shit, Sherlock."

He pulls you in for a hug, and you cry for a few minutes. When you pry yourself from his shoulder, you can't stop him, even if you wanted to, from pressing his lips against your forehead, sweet and tender, a butterfly touch against your nose, and a kiss, almost painfully softly against your lips.

The kiss lasts a single instant, and when you open your eyes, you are calm.

"I love you, you know."

"I love you too. I'll always love you."

"But we've both moved on. You have him, and I have her."

"I'm okay with that. I'm very okay with that."

He holds you in silence for a few moments before he speaks again. "I'm sorry it didn't work out between us. We would have been happy together."

"We can be just as happy with them, if not more." You kiss him again, and there's no passion, but an extreme tenderness there. "You really love her, don't you?"

"As you love him."

"What if he doesn't forgive me?"

"He already has." He gives you one final peck on the cheek before he releases you. "Go fix things up with him, okay?"

"I will."

You pause for a second, looking at the ring on his left hand, before asking one last question. "When's the wedding?"

"August, but that's not important now. Go."

You pause as you stand, hesitating. "Then what are we? Friends?"

"Closer than that. Do you believe in fate? We could be soulmates. Platonic soulmates."

"That's the corniest thing you've ever said, Sollux, and I knew you in high school when you, and I quote, 'Captored' my heart."

"Yes or no?" He smirks, and you laugh in spite of yourself. Love or not, no matter what happened, if you could have him there for you, you'd be okay.

"Soulmates, then."

"Forever?"

You don't hesitate before responding in the affirmative. "Forever."

* * *

><p>He's leaning against a wall, uncomfortably out of place, when you find him. "Equius?"<p>

He murmurs something you can't quite catch. "Equius?"

"Aradia."

A hand snakes into your hair, and for a moment you stupidly wonder if he's going to bash your head against the bricks he's leaning on, but he simply pulls you close to his chest, where he holds you for a long time, his lips in your hair.

"I'm sorry. I should have told you."

"You did your best."

"I hurt you, though."

"Yes, you did. I talked to Nepeta for a long time, and we conversed about our situation."

"You guys are really close, huh?"

"She's like a younger sister, but much closer- as if we were born to be each other's soulmates, in the most platonic sense of the word. It's like that for both of us."

"I know the feeling. But then, why'd she let me come within twenty feet of you again, after what happened?"

"Because you make me happy, and she wants me to be happy."

"I didn't mean to hurt you. I never expected for things to get so serious."

"That's in the past now. But you need to promise me something, Aradia."

"Huh?"

"Don't lie to me. Don't forget to tell me things."

"I won't. It's done me no good so far, and I don't plan to continue doing so."

"Good. Because I have to confess something very serious."

"What?"

He gives you a look, serious with a spark of levity twinkling in the back of his expression. "I love you, very much so. And I'd like to be happy with you for a long time."

"Are you-"

"Nepeta's moving, and I can't afford the rent without her. But if I had someone with me... I mean, the rent's cheaper at my place then what you pay at Kanaya's, I asked her myself, and I-"

You kiss him before he can finish the sentence. It might not be a marriage proposal, but you've never been a traditional princess, anyway, and this is all of the fairy tale pomp and circumstance you need at the moment.

* * *

><p>I'm sorry I haven't been able to update lately. Happy New Years to all, for those who are still waiting for it and those who already in 2012! Consider this a holiday gift, for those of you that celebrate anything around this time of year. The epilogue will be put up when I have time to finish it, and I hope you've enjoyed this particular adventure! Thank you for reading.<p> 


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